


It's In Her Dress And In His Soul

by bothromeoandjuliet



Series: Spring Fling Jeronica Week [3]
Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Betty and jughead need to just break up, But she totally is, F/M, Fangs and Sweetpea know that somethings up, Jughead is tipsy and also DEFINITELY NOT jealous, Jughead sorta smokes, Veronica lodge has alot of lapdogs, Veronica says that she's not jealous, but not really, but preferably to new york, jughead and Veronica really just want to run away, riverdale is going green
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 16:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18014213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bothromeoandjuliet/pseuds/bothromeoandjuliet
Summary: Green; it's in the snake that's on his back, it's flecked inside his eyes. It's draped around Veronica's body in silk and matching heels. But most of all it's how Jughead feels when he sees Reggie's hand on Veronica's back when he's guiding her through the crowd to the stage. Green is many things; and it's leaving a bitter taste in the Serpent King's mouth.





	It's In Her Dress And In His Soul

**Author's Note:**

> One-shot number three. The prompt is Green.

Green.

Spring has come to Riverdale in all its dripping glory and everything is green. The buds on the trees, the grass that appears underfoot, everything is pulsing with life.

Even the less nature filled aspects of the town are going green. Alice Cooper has green paint stains on her overalls after repainting her kitchen and the neon green lights at the entrance to La Bonne Nuit, reflect brightly in Betty’s big, green eyes.

Pops is on a full environmental kick, which is why tonight’s party is special. Everything mirrors the theme; from the table-cloths, to the curtains hanging behind Josie while she sings onstage, to the drink in Jughead’s hand.

Betty deserts him almost as soon as they walk in, her posture still stiff from their latest fight from earlier that day. They could have come separately, or Jughead could have not gone at all, but Betty had insisted. That was Betty Cooper, perfectly fake until the last, no matter how far down the ladder of respectability she fell.

Bitter laughter tugs at his throat, so he swallows his whole glass in one gulp. It tastes like apples; and looking across the speakeasy from his secluded corner Jughead thinks to himself that it's not the only forbidden fruit there.

There is green coiled into the leather on his back, etched into the skin on his shoulder; flecked inside his eyes. And it's wrapped around Veronica’s body in silk and matching heels.

Jughead can feel the green in his soul. It's bright against Archie’s lettermen jacket and the pictures of his scholarship letter that he’s showing Betty on his phone. It's almost blinding in the happy, unconcerned smiles of his fellow classmates.

Another tray of drinks passes him and Jughead snags one, because there is no way he is going to attempt to go through tonight completely sober. He raises a hand in greeting to Sweetpea and Fangs where they stand by the door in matching black suits, a gift from Veronica for when the Serpents were working security. The suits were nice; Jughead knew that for a fact; he had one hanging in his closet at home; but Jughead had no doubt that even though Veronica had given them as gifts, she had very likely been thinking more about them fitting into her aesthetic.

Jughead’s eyes search the room once again. Josie’s singing has stopped for the moment, giving her some time for refreshment; and Kevin is up on stage announcing that the evening’s hostess is going to be coming up to say a few words about Pops and La Bonne Nuit’s new green initiative. He looks through the crowd for Veronica and sees her heading toward the stage with Reggie’s hand pressed against the small of her back, helping to guide her through the people. The sight turns his stomach.

Veronica mounts the steps, leaving Reggie behind at the bottom of them, and walks to the microphone. Her dress is tangled in one hand, lifted away from her legs, and the other wraps slightly around the mic-stand. Everyone quiets and stands to attention. Now would be the moment for him to walk over to Betty; to show the appearance of solidarity and silently ask for her unspoken forgiveness.

But then Veronica’s eyes meet his from across the room; shining defiantly; and she gives him the slightest of smiles before launching into her speech. A third tray passes him, an empty glass is given in exchange for a full one, and then Jughead is turning on his heel, glass in hand, and finding the nearest exit. Hie ignores the strange looks that he gets from Fangs and Sweetpea, his left hand already digging in his pocket for the pack of cigarettes taken from his mom’s purse and the lighter he had found abandoned in a booth at the White Whyrm. Nobody is upstairs since Pops is closed for the night, so Jughead heads out back by the dumpsters, hoping that nobody will think to look for him there.

The sky is dark excepting the stars and the atmosphere is rather chilling. Not even the gigantic, glowing sign on the front of the building is bright enough to shine there.

It takes a few tries but he finally manages to light a cigarette. The lighter is nearly out of fuel which is probably why it got dumped, but it doesn’t really matter since Jughead isn’t planning on taking up a smoking habit anyway. It's out of his budget for one thing and he doesn’t really smoke them, just gives it a puff or two; then watches it burn out against his fingers. It's almost a calming ritual, in a way, and besides, it gives him and Betty something else to fight about, which is all they really do these days.

He takes another puff, watching his breath float, thick and grey, through the air, eyes unfocused, wondering how long he’ll be left in peace before someone finds him and drags him back downstairs, filling his ears with false excitement and lies about having, ‘just one more drink and then heading out.’

Rusty metal on the door’s hinges creaks behind him. Apparently he had had less time then he’d originally thought.

“You do know that it's traditionally considered polite to greet the hostess.”

Veronica’s voice, salty-sweet in his ears. Her shoes clack against the concrete as she walks up beside him, leaning next to him on the chipped metal railing.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call either of us ‘traditional’ type people, would you Princess?”

Angry snake shining green on his back, against his skin, tumbling out of his mouth. She sighs against the air, frustration lacing it, and reaches out an expectant hand.

“You don’t smoke.”

“And you don’t get jealous. Guess we’re both trying on someone else’s skin tonight.”

He holds the cigarette, fingertips dancing against her lips, giving her one puff before pulling it away. It falls against the ground silently and Jughead grinds it into oblivion, burning tan concrete to grey.

“I wasn’t jealous.”

“Shame. I wanted you to be.”

Her tone is dark; dark and deep; far deeper then how she speaks to everyone else. To them she’s just a piece of fluffy cotton candy, but with him she lets herself be poison.

“Why? ‘Cause you were?”

“Please, Juggy-Boy. If I were to get jealous every time I had to see that sweet little,girl-next-door on your arm, I’d have gone mad by now.”

Jughead laughs, cold and brittle and doesn’t say anything, just looks at her with hungry eyes and fingertips that twitch at being held back from touching her. He laughs because not even the Queen of Hearts could hold a candle to his and Veronica’s madness.

“I could leave her. Hell, I wouldn’t even hesitate to leave her if you told me to.”

She doesn’t say anything, just keeps her eyes facing forward, staring at everything and yet nothing. Jughead pulls the lighter back out of his pocket, flicking it on then off, the flame reflecting in his pupils as he continues.

“And you could ditch all the lapdogs; Archie and Reggie and Chuck, the whole pack of them. We could go ‘steady’, pretend that we were just two normal kids and never have to hide away again.”

“Stop wasting your lighter Jughead.”

Veronica’s voice is tired, like she’s got a hundred souls tied behind her. Maybe she does. Maybe they both do. Still, he shuts the lighter.

“Eighteen. That's all we have to wait for, eighteen and graduation. I’ll hand over management of La Bonne Nuit to Kevin and Pop Tate, and then we’ll both go wherever we want to. To everywhere and everything.”

“I thought you wanted to go to New York.”

“I love New York, but I want to go where you’ll be happy.”

“And if I’m happy in New York?”

His voice is quiet, almost revenant. Moments like these remind him why he loves Veronica Lodge; moments where its just him and her and her shining soul.

“Then we’ll stay in New York. Find some old apartment and jobs that we’re not paid enough to do and listen to the people’s heartbeats.”

She leans her head against his shoulder, goosebumps rushing to cover her skin and if there wasn’t a chance that someone could come looking for them at any second, Jughead would wrap her in creased leather, protect her from the cold with his battle armor.

“I want to see you in New York, Jug. I mean, your fantastic in Riverdale but in New York you’ll be brilliant!”

“What about you? Will you be brilliant too?”

“I’m brilliant wherever I am.” she replies scornfully, but with a smile.

“Is that how it's gonna’ be Princess? You and me in the city that never sleeps?”

“Mmhmm. We’re both to awake to stay in a sleepy little town. And that's all Riverdale is, even with all the crimes and coverups, a typical, American, sleepy small town.”

“But even if we have to wait…What’s stopping me from leaving her?

His voice is desperate, he knows it is, but so is his soul and he’s just so tired of how everything always stays the same. A car drives off in the distance, taunting him.

“You are. I never told you to stay with her. I know why you do though.”

“Do you? I don’t.”

“You’re scared. Scared of what people would say, of having to see Betty in the hallways at school and knowing that you were the first one to break her heart, even though she never came close to breaking yours. Scared that the second there isn’t anything stopping us we’ll fall apart like a house of cards.”

The silence is deafening after Veronica’s words. Because she’s right, Jughead is scared, terrified of all those things, but really mostly scared of losing her. Because in loving Veronica, he had given her his whole heart and she had given him hers.

What would they be if they weren’t each-others? Would they be the same with only the others heart inside their chests?

“Would you have even wanted me if it wasn’t in secret Princess?”

“Jughead, matching souls never don’t want each-other.”

Her eyes lift, fixing themselves on his face.

“I wanted you for years, and even before that I loved you. You and I are just invertible, we couldn’t have not wanted one another if we had tried for a hundred years.”

A pause.

“I want you Jughead. For all the days of my life, forever and ever.”

Her hand against his heartbeat, matching their rhythm. Jughead’s eyes are pulled towards her mouth. It was uncontrollable, what she did to him. Atoms born from the same star.

“I want you too. I mean there is one part of you that I want in particular right now, but I’ll want you till the day I die, and most likely even after that Princess.”

Lips brush against one another, unhurried, the physical manifestation of a whispered promise. Her fingers twisting through his hair, his hands wrapped around her hips, body pressing her against the railing, sending flecks of old rusted paint fluttering to the ground.

She pulls her head away and he whispers her name like it's a prayer.

“Veronica.”

They meet again, sticky from her lipgloss and slow. Another car revs to life, this time close enough to tell it's coming from Pops’ parking lot. Hearing it, Jughead is the first one to pull away, breath labored, forehead resting against hers.

“They’re going to come looking for you soon, Princess. You know that they can’t last for long without their Queen.”

She smiles, chuckle rumbling into Jughead’s skin.

“And here I was thinking that I was a princess this whole time.”

“You’re their Queen, but you’re my Princess.”

“And of the two, the former is infinitely superior. But you’re right, I should go back down, it's getting cold.” 

Moving to the door, Veronica looks back at him over her shoulder, eyes shining.

“Don’t stay out here for to much longer. I know that you like to mope, but I like being able to watch you.”

The door swings closed behind her retreating form. Very likely she’s already come up with at least three different explantations about where she’s been. The way that the green silk swings teasingly around her calves, burns inside his head, so he tosses back his third drink, letting the green fog up his head again.

He knows that he should follow her, but Betty is down there and Reggie and he’s sick to the sight of them. So he pulls another cigarette from his pack and lights it. It glows, brighter and brighter, singeing the hair on his fingers.

Bonnie’s got Clyde, Romeo’s got Juliet and Jughead’s got three more months to go.

 


End file.
